


Jamaica

by Thestarontheleft



Category: Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-04-22 18:01:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4845086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thestarontheleft/pseuds/Thestarontheleft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt (kind of) where Patrick wins a radio show and gets and all-expenses paid trip to Jamaica where Pete is his tour guide. Cuteness ensuess</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So how did you meet?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you and credit to fcutemo and the anonymous person who suggested this on tumblr - also peachtrick for reblogging it so I actually saw it. Much appreciated!!

Patrick snuggled up to Pete in the booth. It’s freezing outside, Pete is convinced it’s sleeting and Patrick has refused to take his coat off.   
“Come on Patrick, I don’t want to sit next to you while your coat steams!” Pete groaned, eyeing the ice on Patrick’s black coat that was slowly melting into Pete’s arm. Patrick shook his head and resolutely stayed burrowed under Pete’s arm until a coffee arrived, which he quickly latched his hands onto. His coat wrestled off by Pete, with half a cup of coffee making its way down Patrick’s throat, it was the perfect cue for Mikey and his girlfriend Emma to walk through the door.  
“Is that them?” Pete asked, his body tensing up quickly. Patrick looked at him quizzically. He read Pete’s expression easily now, and realised the problem almost instantly.  
“They’ll love you” he said reassuringly as he raised his arm in the air to wave at Mikey. They made their way over, Emma pulling off gloves as they walked.  
“Makes a change from Jamaica, huh Patrick?” Mikey grinned as he sat down. Patrick laughed and motioned towards Pete.  
“Guys this is Pete, Pete, meet Emma and Mikey”. Mikey smiled easily and shook hands with Pete across the table. Pete’s smile, at first stiff and unsure, was quickly replaced with the enthused and slightly crazed one that Patrick loved. The group reached the meal’s desserts rapidly, before Emma pops the question.  
“So how did you guys meet? Like I know it was in Jamaica, but what actually happened?”  
“Well”, said Pete seriously, leaning forward in his chair; “I was in a strip club, and Patrick here walked in-”  
“PETE” spluttered a red-faced Patrick as he punched Pete in the arm, and Mikey howled with laughter across the table.  
“You’re a genius, Pete” chuckled Mikey. “You know, one time, we got Patrick a stripper for his birthday, and -”  
“ENOUGH” yelled Patrick. He turned to face Pete. “Either you tell it properly or I will!” Pete nodded seriously before a smile broke over his face.  
“OK, but after I have to hear the stripper story.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick glared at Gabe. The guy was holding out the phone and motioning towards it in increasing stages of hysteria. Patrick was violently shaking his head, trying to squirm out from under Gabe (who was, incidentally, sitting on him).   
“NO!” he mouthed.  
“YES” mouthed back Gabe angrily. “Only you could get the answer to this question” he mouthed, pointing at Patrick. “Say something to the guy!” Patrick was still shaking his head when a small tinny voice was heard through the phone.  
“Hello? Hello?” Patrick’s eyes bugged for a second before he grabbed the phone off Gabe, who grinned triumphantly.  
“Yes, sorry” Patrick stammered. The voice on the phone shouted back.  
“You, sir, are the 100th caller for Mix FM’s competition to win an all-expenses paid trip to Jamaica! All you have to do is answer this question!! Are you ready?” The voice waited expectantly. Patrick sent death eyes at Gabe. He nodded before realising the guy couldn’t see him.  
“Yes?” offered Patrick. The guy ploughed ahead resolutely.  
“You have one minute to answer, alright? The question is; what David Bowie song has been covered by both Lulu and Nirvana?” Patrick gaped at the phone. How was it possible that he actually knew the answer to this? He looked at Gabe, who was staring at Patrick, transfixed, and made a shooing motion at the phone. Patrick swallowed.  
“Is it ‘the man who stole the world’?” A second of silence passed, and Patrick had a sudden panic that he had lost his mind and answered something completely wrong, probably a song that wasn’t even by Bowie, what was he thinking, when canned applause started playing through the phone.  
“CONGRATULATIONS” screamed the voice in the phone. Patrick winced and pulled the phone away from his ear slightly. “YOU HAVE WON AN ALL-EXPENSES PAID TRIP TO JAMAICA!” Patrick noticed his mouth was ajar. “WE’RE GOING TO PASS YOU OVER TO JIM FOR THE DETAILS, BUT GIVE IT UP FOR OUR LUCKY CONTESTANT!!!”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick stared at the aeroplane in trepidation. It had taken about three hours of Gabe shouting and listing positive things about the trip (paired with Patrick shouting ridiculous possible scenarios that could occur) for Patrick to be convinced that leaving the state was a good idea. He still wasn’t sure, but Gabe had promised hell if he didn’t. He had decided Jamaica was currently the lesser of two evils. Throughout the whole flight he had his headphones in, resolutely ignoring the person next to him, and stared out the window. He chuckled wryly when “the man who stole the world” came on, but he didn’t skip it (who skips Bowie anyway?) At touchdown, Patrick felt a familiar twang of nerves in this stomach. Jamaica was a hell of a lot different to home.  
Pete was lounging against side of the luggage train, and was getting eyed by the security man near the door. Pete was well-aware of the fact, but hid it behind his sunglasses. People tended to underestimate guys who looked like tattooed idiots. Pete had only taken this job because, a) it was one guy, how hard could it be? And b) he needed money. Who doesn’t? reasoned Pete, but to be fair losing his flat was a bad move. At least with this job he’d be in a hotel for two weeks before having to find a place to live. The dicky sign with “Patrick Stump” written on it was propped up next to him, and Pete got to his feet as the flight Stump was on got called. He watched in anticipation as the crowd burst through the gates, and Pete scanned the crowd for a likely candidate. There was a guy at the back with a trucker cap jammed on and headphones in, and he looked tuned out from the rest of the world. Pete smiled as he glanced at the photo the radio place had sent him. This looked like his guy. The guy was staring at the massive (and in Pete’s opinion, way overstated) welcoming sign that greeted everyone who came through the terminal. Pete went up to him and tapped him on the shoulder, and the kid jumped, spinning around simultaneously pulling a headphone out of his ear. He stared at Pete for a second, before blurting out “what?” Pete smiled and stuck out his hand.   
“I’m Pete. Are you Patrick Stump? I think I’m your tour guide”.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick had walked out of the plane to find the sun beating down, so he fished his cap out of his backpack and tucked it on, covering his mess of blonde hair. Bowie was still playing in his ears, and he wandered into the terminal and widened his eyes as the huge sign, reading “Welcome to Jamaica” greeted him. He stared at it for a second before a hand tapped him on the shoulder, and Patrick squeaked and turned around. There, with a smile plastered on and a hand outstretched, was possibly the cutest guy Patrick had ever laid eyes on. He gaped at him for another moment before the guy spoke.   
“Hi” he said “I’m Pete.”


	2. Freezing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Look, I wrote this a long time ago and I've decided not to continue with the story anymore; i might one day add a chapter or so, but for now it's not happening. About a month ago i wrote the ending for this, and I really like it so that's what I've posted underneath. You can fill in the gaps yourself, but I was thinking that they would fall in love in Jamaica, and Pete would have a girlfriend he was going to break up with but hadn't told Patrick about. Patrick comes back home angrily and Pete follows him; that's where this chapter goes off. I'm sorry to everyone if I've disappointed you, and i might finish this one day but i doubt it. Let me know in the comments what you think of this though.

Patrick opened the door, and gaped at Pete for a second. Without a word he frowned, and shut the door in Pete’s face.

“Wait! No, Patrick, please!” Pete yelled through the door. “I’m sorry, I flew here from Jamaica, come on please let me in.” Patrick ignored him, and went upstairs to make coffee.  
“Patrick! Patrick!” His cries got louder and more insistent and Patrick began to feel pissed off. He grabbed his headphones of the coffee table and stuck them in his ears, so he couldn’t hear anything. After he finished his coffee Patrick drifted off to sleep on the couch, his insides warm, and he was steadfastly ignoring the window or the sound coming from outside.

Patrick jerked awake. ‘The man who stole the world’ was playing, and Patrick scowled at his ipod before angrily skipping the song. It was dark now, the sun well and truly below the horizon. Patrick stretched and got up to turn a light on and shut the curtains. As he glanced out the window he saw ‘I love you Patrick Stump’ written on the hood of Patrick’s car in the snow. Patrick looked confusedly at the sky. It was still snowing, meaning the message should have been covered up hours ago. Unless….

Patrick suddenly belted down the stairs and threw open the front door. A small, dark figure was sitting curled up into the side of Patrick’s door, hunkering into the small brick alcove where a pot plant usually rested. 

“You idiot, Pete Wentz!” shouted Patrick. “What the hell are you doing??!” It was at this point Patrick noticed Pete wasn’t responding. Or shivering. Or acting like a normal cold person would.  
“Shit” muttered Patrick. He grabbed Pete, holding his head up to look at him.  
“Pete! Can you hear me?” His head lolled to one side, and no response was made. Patrick heaved him up, tucking one of Pete’s arm up and over his shoulder, hauling him inside and dumping him on the sofa in the next room. He ran back to the door, slammed it shut, then sprinted back over to Pete.  
“I hate you, you moron!” he muttered fiercely as he grabbed a blanket of the back of the couch and tucked it over Pete. “What were you thinking?” Pete was still unconscious, so Patrick scrambled round trying to find every blanket and duvet he owned, heaping them on Pete. Ten minutes later Pete was shivering violently, which Patrick took as a good sign. While he was in the kitchen making a hot water bottle, he heard Pete cry out.

“’Trick?” Patrick finished the water bottle and walked back over to Pete, who’s pale face was grinning in a pile of blankets. Patrick scowled at him before rolling his eyes and tucking the water bottle under all the blankets. Pete had somehow managed to wrangle his hand out of the mass, and he grabbed Patrick’s. “I’m sorry” he whispered, staring into Patrick’s eyes. “I really am”. Patrick nodded slightly, before wincing at the temperature of Pete’s hand. He handed Pete a coffee before snuggling up next to him.  
“You’re an idiot” he told Pete. Pete just chuckled, and leaned his head on Patrick’s shoulder, and Patrick smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I have other (much better, in my opinion) fics, so feel free to check them out. Sorry again. Love ya


End file.
